


there was light in your eyes (and paint on your nose)

by rileyhart



Series: in any version of reality, i'd find you, and i'd choose you [3]
Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, F/M, Maya accidentally takes Lucas' coffee instead of her own!, basically these dorks flirting the whole time, fluff!, major fluff!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-17 04:34:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11844051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rileyhart/pseuds/rileyhart
Summary: A sudden storm, a cafe with foggy windows, an accidentally stolen coffee, a walk through the rain, and purple paint on Maya Hart's nose.





	there was light in your eyes (and paint on your nose)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [danahscott](https://archiveofourown.org/users/danahscott/gifts).



> this is basically pure fluff, so indulge yourself! (and tell me what you thought in the comments!!)  
> and have a good first day back danana!!

Maya Hart comes barrelling into John & Abigail’s Coffee Shop, just as the rain begins to thunder down. She stops in the shop front, and turns to stare at the storm that has so suddenly appeared, shocked that she’s just escaped it.

She joins the line, and takes her phone out of her pocket to check the time — 10:30AM. She’s supposed to be at the school by 11AM for the Saturday painting class she runs; she’s cutting it fine, but as long as the coffee doesn’t take too long and she doesn’t drown in the completely unforecasted torrential downpour, she should be fine.

“Just a large latte, please,” she tells the girl behind the counter once it’s her turn.

“Sure thing, name?”

“Maya,”

“That’ll be three dollars, thank you,”

Maya hands over the money, and stands to the side, bumping into the guy who’d been in front of her in the queue.

“S— Sorry,” she says hurriedly, doing a double take as she looks at him properly, because, well, he’s rather attractive, with muscular arms and tanned skin and light brown hair that looks like it’s been bleached from sun.

She turns away, as he catches her staring, and stands next to him, her cheeks turning slightly pink. She can see him smirking out of the corner of her eye, and if she weren’t so embarrassed for quite obviously checking him out, she’d say something.

Brilliant Maya, she thinks to herself, just what you needed to do, boost a man’s —  presumably already large  — ego.

She shifts from foot to foot next to him, wondering if it’s just her, or did it suddenly get hot in here? A glance at the foggy windows confirms, that is in fact, the shop.

“Lucas, Maya,” calls out the barista, placing two coffees on the counter.

Maya snatches up the closest one to her, and walks swiftly to the door, mentally preparing herself to walk three blocks through the bucketing rain.

“Maya?” calls out a voice hesitantly. “Maya!” it calls out more urgently.

Maya turns around to see the guy from before, holding out a coffee.

“What?” she asks, though it comes out ruder than she means. She’s just in a rush and doesn’t need this right now. The class starts at eleven, but really she should be there now to set up.

“Um, you took my coffee,” he says, hesitant again, and slightly scared, as if worried she’s going to snap at him again.

“Oh!” she looks down at the coffee in her hand, and sure enough it says 'Lucas' on the side, not 'Maya'.

“I’m sorry, I’m just... I’m— I’m in a rush,” she stumbles over her words as they trade coffees, her cheeks flushing again (from the heat of the shop, she tries to persuade herself).

“It’s okay,” he replies with a shrug, and she can hear the hint of a texan accent and smiles to herself.

There’s a beat, filled with the low chatter of others in the coffee shop, before Maya raises her coffee to him. “Well thanks, I should, um, be going,”

He watches as she opens the door and braces, building up the nerve to run through the rain (if you run you won’t get as wet, at least that’s what her best friend Riley always says).

He laughs, and stands next to her. Her eyes are shut, and there is a wrinkle of concentration across her brow. She’s _very_ cute. And the purple paint on her nose only adds to that.

He opens his umbrella with a flourish, and Maya opens her eyes, staring at him, opened mouthed.

“Where ya going?” he asks.

“You don’t have to do this,” she tells him. “It’s only three blocks, I’ll be fine,”

“Only three blocks?” he says breezily, “perfect, hardly puts a dent in my morning routine at all.

Maya can’t help but smile.

“So is this what you do all the time, Maya?” Lucas asks, as they walk side by side under the umbrella, the rain making a satisfying sound as it hits the umbrella.

“Do what?”

“Take men’s coffees and then con them into walking you places?” he teases.

She lets out a mock offended gasp. “You’re the one who offered, Huckleberry,”

He raises an eyebrow. “Huckleberry?”

“Yeah, _Huckleberry_ ,” she emphasises it, grinning cheekily.

He shows her his coffee cup. “It says 'Lucas',”

She rolls her eyes playfully, “Stupid baristas, always getting it wrong,” she looks up at him, and laughs as she catches his eye. “Don’t worry, Ranger Rick, I’m sure they’ll get it one day,”

He stares at her in wonder as she laughs, her nose scrunching up.

“So what else do you do,” he asks, “y’know, when you’re not taking taking other people’s coffee,”

“I’m an art teacher, at John Adams Middle School, that’s where I’m going right now,”

“You do realise it’s a Saturday, right?”

“Yes, I do, Huckleberry,” she replies, another playful roll of the eyes, “I run a communal painting class there on Saturdays,”

He smiles, “That sounds pretty cool,”

She looks up at him, “Thanks,”

They walk in silence, sipping their coffees and listening to the rain. Maya imagines how it looks, big silvery droplets bouncing off the umbrella; the umbrella weaving them a path through the sea of rain, the buildings like coral that had lost its colour, and they like fish, passing through the ocean forest.

“What about you?” Maya asks after the moment of comfortable silence, “What do you do?’

“I’m actually a writer,” he tells her.

She looks at him in surprise. “Really? Would not have pegged you as that, Huckleberry,”

He fiddles absent mindly with the lid of his coffee cup. “Yeah, I went to veterinary school, and I don’t know, it just didn’t work out… but I’m actually on my way to talk to my publisher about my first book,”

Maya grins. “Wow, that’s amazing,” before adding in a worried voice, “I’m not making you late, am I?”

“No, the meeting’s not till midday, I just had to get out of the apartment to calm my nerves,”

“Not exactly the best weather for a walk,” Maya laughs, motioning to the rain.

“This is exactly how I like it, we don’t get rain like this in Texas,”

“Oh my gosh,” Maya says sarcastically, “you’re from Texas?! I never would’ve guessed!”

Lucas laughs. “It’s the accent, right?”

“Definitely didn’t help,”

“Well, you got a pretty strong New York accent yourself!”

“And I wear that like a badge of honour!”

“Say ‘fuhgeddaboudit’,” he coaxes her, grinning.

“Not a chance, Huckleberry,”

They both laugh, catching each other’s eye. It’s amazing how easy it is to talk, to laugh, to just be together. It’s like they’ve known each other forever.

“What’s the book called?” Maya asks him, once the laughter’s abated.

“The book?”

A roll of the eyes. “Your book.”

“It doesn’t really have a name, as of yet,”

“No name? How will I know which book to buy?”

“You’re gonna buy it?” he can’t help but smile at that.

“Well I gotta repay you somehow, Huckleberry - at least tell me what’s it about.”

“Um, it’s about a veterinarian, actually, turns out I’m better at writing them than being them. It’s about the relationship that he develops with the animals, and what happens when he finds out he has a daughter,” something flashes in Maya’s eyes and Lucas stops talking. “Are you okay?” he asks after a moment.

“Yeah, I’m fine, the whole surprise daughter thing, that’ll make a good story,” she insists, but there’s a falseness to her voice.

“Yeah, well, he lives in this small texan town, and she’s from New York, and the whole thing just changes his life,”

“Right,” Maya murmurs, kicking a small stone on the pavement, “his life.”

Lucas looks at her, concerned. “I’m sorry, did I… did I say something, I didn’t mean to,” he says gently.

Maya sighs and shakes her head. “No, I’m sorry,” she says genuinely, “it sounds like a good book, Lucas, it really does, absent fathers… they’re just a bit of a sore spot with me, that’s all.” she tells him truthfully.

“Well, I think you’ll really like the end of the book then,” he tells her.

She smiles slyly, and mischievousness as worked its way back into her voice. “Is that your way of getting me to buy the book, don’t need to do a sales pitch on me, I’m already buying a copy.”

“Well at least I know it’ll sell at least one copy,”

She grins at him, before pointing at the building next to them.

John Adams Middle School.

“Well this is me, thanks, Huckleberry,”

He smiles. “No worries, Maya,”

“And I’ll look out for that book, by Lucas…”

“Friar.”

“Lucas Friar, cute name, Huckleberry,” she says, and he laughs.

She ducks out from under the umbrella and hops up the first couple of steps.

“Hey, Maya!” Lucas calls out, and Maya stops in her tracks, turning to face him.

“Maya what?” he asks her.

“Penelope Hart,” she replies,

“Penelope?” he raises an eyebrow.

“Don’t you start, Huckleberry!” she warns, unable to hold back her grin.

“Maya Penelope Hart, would you like to meet for coffee tomorrow? John & Abigail’s?” he asks, a slight nervousness to his voice.

She’s really unable to hold back her smile this time. It’s wide and goofy, and her eyes are sparkling. “Yeah,” she nods, “I would love that,”

“Eleven?” Lucas asks, grinning himself.

“I’ll see you then,” she beams, and they stare at each other for a moment, both practically bursting with happiness, before Maya gives him a little wave, and turns to walk up the rest of the steps.

“Penelope?” he calls out, and she turns around, a playful challenge on her face.

“Yes, Friar?”

“You have some paint on your nose,”

Maya rubs her nose and, sure enough, purple paint comes off. She stares at him incredulously, completely speechless.

He grins at her, taking her silent reaction to mean he’s won. He tips an imaginary hat. “Ma’am,” he says in the strongest southern accent he can manage, before walking away, a spring in his step.

Maya watches him go, an eventual smile working its way onto her face.

That evening she paints a picture of a coral jungle and a deep blue sea, with fish of many colours swimming between the coral buildings. At the very bottom of the painting is a small black umbrella, and underneath it, a couple kissing.

She’ll show it to Lucas one day, she promises herself, as she sits back and admires her artwork, paint on her nose again (blue this time).

And she does, it just happens to be three years later on their wedding day.


End file.
